


Just a Little Bit Perfect

by Maraenian



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Angst, Billy Hargrove Redemption, Billy centric, Child Abuse, Everybody Lives, Fluff, Gay Billy Hargrove, Gen, Good Parent Joyce Byers, Hurt Billy Hargrove, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Nobody is Dead, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-22
Updated: 2019-10-22
Packaged: 2020-07-10 16:06:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19908457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maraenian/pseuds/Maraenian
Summary: The demogorgons, the upside-down, the gate, the Russians ; everything evil was gone.Yet for Billy, some monsters still remained.!!! - Just renamed, it was called 'Just Okay'.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this is future me from just after posting chapter 7 and I just want to WARN any knew readers that these first 2 or so chapters (it does get better I swear) are far from the best things I’ve ever written but I don’t have the motivation to re-write them. 
> 
> If you could stick with the story anyway I would be delighted but I know the hook on this story is basically non-existent.

The gate was closed, the Russians were gone and the Upside-down was no more, yet the shivers that wracked Max's spine were as potent as ever. The thought of the strings of flesh which sewed the gate closed made her want to gag - going through them was even worse - but the last link to that world was gone for good. They were going to be fine, everyone was going to be fine.

It had been all over the news; the mass return and amnesia of those who had gone missing. Somehow, even California had heard the story - all the way from their sleepy town. Unfortunately though, her step-brother remembered it avidly and was alone in his experiences. While the news had been obsessing over the loss of people Hop and Joyce had pored over every single explanation they could think of for the anomaly which was Billy's memory, whilst he had sat in the middle of it all - the eye of the storm.

Given Max’s past experience with her stepbrother, she had assumed he would love being the centre of attention but the flaying had seemingly affected him far more than she first realised. His bedroom had become his haven, the parties less and less frequent and his apparently-handsome face mostly held an exhaustion Max could only assume wasn't related to sleep. The shouting throughout the house, though it had always been intense it had recently become more potent - more unadulterated too. It used to be half-heartedly concealed, now there were no boundaries.

The line had been crossed too many times.

————————————————————————————-

The smell of unwashed sheets filled Billy’s nose as he collapsed onto the rickety chair in the corner of his room, exhausted from another day. Time dragged on for so long it made him wonder how others could stand it - how he used to stand it. Sliding off the chair he hauled himself over the end of the bed and landed heavily onto his duvet before reaching under the curtain and opening the window, allowing the storm outside to heave it open for him. His eyes began to flutter and the soft patter of rain lulling him to sleep was irresistible. His breathing soon evened out into deep sighing exhales, finally relaxed.

Finally oblivious to another set of lungs accompanying his own in a sinister rhythm.

Lurking in the doorway, Neil Hargrove’s slick hair caught the light as slipped into the room to bend down and sneer in his son’s face.

A look of utter contempt swept over his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is only the prologue, the chapters will be much longer from now on, don’t worry 😂


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Jim’s opinion, Russian science and beaten teens were equally difficult problems to deal with.

Hopper always dealt with leftovers - whether they were from his fridge or the stained floor of a crime scene, the consequences were always his to clean up. Unfortunately, that also included the Russian’s aftermath, something which often caused the chief of police to regularly fall asleep at his kitchen table surrounded by swathes of science-filled sheets. Even though he had been working on the many equations given to him for a fair few months now, not even a dent had been made in the amassed amount he had been given; it was impossible task. Growling at the leaf of paper in his hand he slammed it down onto the coffee table. While the wooden surface wobbled precariously with the assault, Jim scrubbed his face with his hands and stood from the pile of work; he needed a break and some coffee.

The patter of Joyce busy decorating the living room paused as she poked her head around the door and frowned at the mess on the table.

”Any luck?” Her voice was soft.

The silence that followed was an answer in itself but he gave a small shake of his head anyway and she nodded her head in consolation, her crow's feet crinkling as she smiled at him. Joyce had been spending a fair amount of time at his new house as Will was often with the party - she always said she wanted to help decorate his new place anyway, something which Hopper would never get around to. He appreciated her company, though she was little help at advanced Russian science.

Heaving a sigh, Jim stomped unceremoniously out the house, slamming the door of his truck only once he had safely collapsed into the seat. The smell of worn leather covering filled the air as he wiped his face free of the splashes of rain from outside. With little excuse to do anything else he revved the engine and set out on patrol, the soft patter of rain bouncing on the window of the cranky pick-up.

He had a job to do - one that didn't involve Russians.

————————————————————————————-

Billy didn't think Neil would throw him out into the rain with no car keys but (of course) wonders never fucking ceased. After the beating of his life he had been dumped outside the door, blood spilling from his forehead and the rain quickly soaking through his clothes.

The wet tarmac of the pavement scraped his cheek as he stumbled and collapsed onto the cement. Shit. Head ringing and body bruised he lifted his eyes forward to try and see anything through the rain - the storm which had lulled him to sleep just hours ago was now beating him down even further. The metallic scent of lightning filling the air as he struggled to breathe, rough pavement surfacing grinding into his nails as he dragged himself along the ground.

The screeching of wet brakes forced itself through the torrent of waters and in the distance, Billy caught sight of a large shadow; a car. Groaning, Billy launched his muscles into action, pushing the ground away from him and hobbling to the road. The curb momentarily made him stagger before he hauled his body to the centre, knees knocking he took his hands of the floor to wave wildly in the air. The car better fucking see him or else he’s dead. Literally.Squinting slightly, he tried to focus on the silhouette ahead of him but it blurred in and out of focus making the world spin.

The bumper of the car slid closer.

Billy knees battered each other harder.

The lights got brighter

His vision got dimmer.

Legs giving way, he crumpled to the ground, hearing the squeal of breaks at the last second. A door slammed, the sound reverberating through his ears as he rested his head back onto the concrete. A flashlight shined in his face and he groaned at the sudden change - he still desperately reached his hand out.

Choking on the heavy air he spat out half sentences, a prominent slur in his tone. ”Help. Please.” despite the wince his whining elicited, he had to keep going, ”Please-,”

The world began to tilt as a commanding face with slicked-back hair stared at him from up above.

————————————————————————————-

Slamming the breaks down at the sudden sight of a figure in the middle of the fucking road, Jim was thrown forwards at the force of the stop. A growl escaped him while he grabbed the flashlight from the back seat and landed heavily on his feet down outside the truck.For a moment he blinked at the empty space before hearing a whimper and glancing down. Exhaling sharply he crouched to the floor and sat up the crumpled figure before him, quickly taking in the accumulation of injuries on all the bare skin he could see. Reaching out a hand, the teen scrambled limply at his uniform slurring at him unintelligibly.Glancing up he began to check the boy more thoroughly,lifting his chin, before his eyebrows shot up as he caught Billy Hargrove’s familiar face staring at him. Unfortunately, Jim’s face also seemed to register with the teen and he scrambled backwards -hissing as his injuries dragged along the concrete - until his back hit the bumper of his pickup. Sighing Hopper spoke over the rain to the prone figure before him.

”I’m not gonna arrest you kid, not unless you’ve some something wrong.”

The was no response other than more heavy breathing and the constant thrumming of rainfall.

”Look it's wet and I don't wanna be here anymore than you do-” as he took a step forward Billy completely flattened himself against the truck going even stiffer than before.

”Kid! I just wanna take you home-” the irritation in his voice seemed to be the final straw and Billy turned and began to stumble away, even pulling with his fingers at the concrete to try and go faster, but efforts were futile. He soon dropped onto the ground, blood dripping from his forehead and his form becoming still.

Jogging to reach the boy Hopper hauled him into sitting position and pushed Billy’s hands to his sides to avoid any weak blows being thrown if he happened to wake up. Scooping the figure from the ground, careful to avoid any injuries, Jim carried and settled him into the passenger seat before climbing in himself. Glancing over quickly to check they were set, he gunned the engine and sped away leaving only the faint scent of leather and blood behind, soon to be washed away by the rain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy, hopefully updates will be fairly regular from now on.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Eggos were good, paperwork was most definitely bad.

The sweet scent of leather and waffles filled Billy’s nose as he groggily sucked in a breath, fresh morning air wafting through a nearby open window. Blinking hazily he lifted his head from the couch he lay on and immediately brown eyes filled his vision as a small, vaguely recognisable girl about Max’s age crouched next to him.

’What-’ His head pounded from the scratchy sound of his own voice and he reached up to pat his forehead feeling a thick layer of gauze covering his wound. Where the fuck was he? The girl - El? - had already stood and skittered over to the kitchen door, the scent of microwavable waffles leaving with her, by the time his head had recovered.

’Jim, he's awake-’ Billy slammed a nearby cushion over his ears at the sound of her voice and let out a small groan. He felt hungover but he knew he hadn't been drinking and this couch seemed awfully familiar. Opening his eyes to sharp slits once again, he surveyed his surroundings and stiffened. He was a Chief Hopper’s hut. The very Chief his dad had warned him rather sharply away from. Great, yet another thing for him to attempt explain.

The loud thump of combat boots sent Billy’s head reeling once again and he actually whimpered for fuck’s sake. There were too many noises and too many smells and he curled up into a ball pulling the blanket overhead to block it all out, leaving only his breathing to focus on. Leaving only him and no one else.

————————————————————————————-

Seeing Billy’s visible distress at his loud stride, Hopper slipped his shoes off and tried to minimise the thump he made as his khaki-clad body hit the floor next to the sofa. By now wrapped entirely in blankets. The chief gently tapped the teen's shoulder, easing the cushion and fabric from off of the teen’s head leaving only a mop of blonde hair in the way of his face.

’Hey kid, El tells me you’re awake now.’ Wincing at his attempt at conversation, Jim rubbed his chin. He only received a vague grunt in reply.

'I pulled you from the middle of the road, what were you doing there?' The silence that ensued afterwards caused Hopper to pause in his thinking. Frowning, he decided to try a different tactic, pulling a book from the nearby table and scooting back to lean on his favourite, coffee-stained chair.

Considering the reaction he received last night he doubted he’d be any more willing to talk about it now - whether he was keeping a secret or not. Scanning his book whilst occasionally glancing over the top to check in the teen he soon found a pair of blue eyes peeking from behind a cushion. Deciding to try again Hopper pulled himself up straight.

’Back in the land of the living I see.’ Again, no answer at all was forthcoming; he’d have to wait it out.’Look, I'm making waffles for breakfast, if you want some come to the kitchen in five or so minutes. If not, I'm leaving for patrol in a few hours and I need to have filed the paperwork for your injuries by then.’ He hauled himself from the ground and headed for the kitchen door, perhaps El would have tried to some more of that maths he gave her-

’Wait.’ Smirking in victory Hopper span on his heel and faced the teen now sitting up on the couch.

’Yes?’

Swallowing Billy glanced around flightily, ’How did I get here?’

Thinking carefully, Jim sighed waved him over to the table, ’I'll explain once you’ve eaten some food and them we can go over the records.’

————————————————————————————-

Billy was sure that him sitting at the chief’s rickety fold up table eating Eggos was a strange sight to behold and yet Hope didn't seem to mind too much. Perhaps the recent events had made him unshakeable; nothing seemed to surprise him anymore, although a super-powered, adopted child would tend to do that to you.

The thump of the chief sitting down across from Billy caused him to raise his eyes from the plate, if only in order to glare harshly at him. But Hopper was indifferent, choosing to lean onto the back of his chair, take a puff from his cigarette and pull some paper from the coffee table next to him.

’ Once you’ve got some food in ya, we need to file the paperwork for the assault-’

’No.’ Billy slid his chair slightly out from underneath the table, apprehensively abandoning his Eggo on the plate in front of him. Sighing Hopper leant forwards again, resting his elbows on the table - Billy slid his chair backward even further, he didn't want to get too close.

’Why not?’

’Because, _chief_ , it won't make a difference. You aren't gonna catch this one.’

Hopper pushed forward even further.

’Look, all I have to do is notify your parents-, ’ Billy shifted uncomfortably, ’-and get you to sign a sheet of paper. Why is this such a big deal?’

A sullen silence was all Billy greeted him with. Hop tilted himself back again. Folding up the sheet of paper he pushed it into the boy’s hand - Billy beat down the flinch it almost elicited - along with a pen.

’You have 2 hours - until I leave for work - to fill in the paper. I'm gonna go get ready.’ Watching carefully Billy waited until Hop had disappeared into the next room before lunging towards the lit fireplace and throwing the sheet in. He didn't even bother to look it at; he already knew he was never going to sign it.

————————————————————————————-

Joyce’s old car bounced along the narrow woodland track to Hop’s, Steve in shotgun. He had offered to look after El while she attempted to work on the Russian maths - she was giving him a lift as it was her day off from the shop. Pulling up next to Jim’s rickety truck, she froze as a familiar blonde mullet caught her eye through the window, leaping across the room with youthful agility.

’Joyce, you alright?’ Steve was staring at her, a small frown on his face. Giving a small nod she slid out of the car giving no verbal reply.

Walking hesitantly up the steps she rang the bell whilst craning her neck around the corner to see the window, a position which El found her in seconds later when the young girl wrenched the front door open with a smile.

’Hello Joyce and Steve, Billy is here. Do you want Eggos?’


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Billy reveals an unknown talent and Steve is taken by surprise.

Fiddling with the radio in Joyce's car, Steve leaned against the window watching the raindrops race down outside while is breath mists the glass up. The blur which was the world outside began to clear as Joyce pulled into Hop's muddy driveway and killed the engine. Steve had offered to come and help with El as Joyce needed to work on the science equations but he was feeling lethargic and simply hoped El was in a calm mood. Biting his lip he turned around and was about to brave the thunder when Joyce froze, one foot out the door and the raincoat half over her head.

"Joyce, you alright?"

The nod she gave was not reassuring but the small women still slipped out of the car and padded up the steps anyway, her eyes locked onto the front window of the hut with deep concentration. Scrabbling to open the door Steve hurried after her glancing at Hop's sitting room through the glass but seeing nothing out of the ordinary. Joyce didn't ring the bell, too engrossed in the window, so he did it for her, El's sweet face soon opening it just after and beaming at them.

"Hello Joyce and Steve, Billy is here. Do you want some Eggos?"

There was a second of silence.

"Billy? As in Billy Hargrove?" Steve's voice cut through the tension and El's innocent blink snapped Joyce out of her surprise.

"Well that's fine, isn't it Steve?," the strong stare the Mom sent his way caused him to nod numbly, "And we'd love some Eggos but please say you have something other than waffles in your fridge-"

Tuning out their chatter Steve, took a step past El into the the hut, scanning the area before his eyes fell onto a blonde mop at the table, scribbling on a sheet of paper with a small frown covering his face. He looked the same as before, yet, he looked different. Softer some how, his shoulders were less tense and his shirt was actually buttoned all the way up for once - that softness though, was a sharp contrast to his injuries. Standing in the doorway Steve couldn't see much but the bruises, cuts and blood on his face looked brutal. Breathing in sharply he took a step forwards to see more, rolling his feet as he stepped to be as quiet ass possible. Exhaling he went forward again before the old flooring let out a groan. The rickety wooden boards that made up Hopper's living room were predictably squeaky and the loud cry they made caused Billy's head to snap up, his eyes immediately narrowed upon seeing Steve and he sat up.

"Hargrove."

"Yeah it's me", a pause,"don't cream your pants."

For a moment they simply stared at each other before Joyce and El clattered through the door, neither of them moving until Billy slid his eyes over to the two women, nodding at them politely.

Seeing the other boy was strange, having another person his age know as much of the upside down as sweet Will and yet having such a different character. He covered up his trauma with a dick attitude but, even just then, Steve could see evidence in the way that he was swathed with blankets and a thick hoodie wrapped around his shoulder - all a heavy armour against the cold. Now that Billy had noticed him he was stiff as a board but the sight of him relaxed and calm wasn't a common sight to see.

Walking awkwardly over to the table Steve pulled out a chair and sat down opposite Billy, fidgeting in his seat. As the silence became a little more unbearable he began to take a peek at the papers on the desk, catching sight of thousands of equations and diagrams. Reaching out a hand he pulled some papers from one of the piles before Billy snapped at him.

"Don't touch that." It was quick but firm and Steve's hand jerked back into his lap.

"Why?" For a moment Billy just left him hanging, not even looking up from the sheets. And then...

"Because I just sorted through them and I am not re-doing math-", he glanced up,"-that i have already done."

Sinking back into the seat Steve breathed out, glancing around in confusion. Allowing his eye line to follow the top of a sheet Steve caught sight of the Russian emblem and as he turned his head between the sums and the logo his mind slowed, the only possible conclusion he could think of settling in his head.

'Did Hop ask you to do this?'

"No" ,Billy frowned, “I watched him try to figure it out this morning and knew I could do some of it.'

"So you just...did it?" That was ridiculous.

"Uh, yeah? Now can you piss off?" Taking a deep breath, Steve put his head in his hands before standing up and striding into the kitchen. He knew he wasn't the smartest person out there but those weren't just high school maths sums, they were genius level equations. Leaning on the nearest work surface he met El's eyes from across the room and sighed.

"Why is everything so complicated?" She only shrugged and went back to her waffles.

If Hopper didn’t ask Billy to help with the maths then why was he here? The injuries were a clue but nobody beats up Billy Hargrove – not unless they want serious vengeance as a comeback. Pressing his forehead to the cold of the work surface Steve carded his fingers through his hair, pulling out the many knots he hadn’t bothered to deal with this morning. Billy Hargrove was an enigma, he knew that much. Just as he was about to ask about TV for El he felt one of her delicate fingers poke him in the arm. He looked up and stared blankly at her determined face.

‘Ask him’

‘El I can’t just ask him why he’s so bloody, he already hates-‘

‘Just ask him! He hurts-“, she pressed her hand to his chest, “-he hurts here.”

Staring back at her big brown orbs he found himself rolling his eyes and standing up straight.

‘Sure, whatever.” If El wanted him to do something, he may as well do it – he owed her more than this anyway.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve is left behind while Billy runs towards what he thinks is his only chance.

Though the Eggos had been fabulous Billy had only been given two and, having not eaten dinner last night, he was starving. Sidling towards the kitchen door he peaked around cautiously pulling his blonde locks out of the way, before performing a small headcount to make sure nobody would surprise him. Deeming it safe, he slipped back to the table and stuffed the extra pack of waffles under his shirt, collapsing onto the chair just as Steve walked through the door - the brunet gave him a strange look.

‘What?’ His voice so stiff if almost cracked before Billy forced himself to relax, it wasn’t as if stealing from the chief of police was the worst thing he’d ever done - at least, according to his dad.

‘Nothing, just-’ Steve’s mop of brown hair, unstyled today, span in a flourish as he shook his head, ’whatever.' An awkward silence reigned.

‘Did you need something?’ Billy finally sneered.

‘El wanted me to ask how you got so fucking dead beat.’

‘And?’

Steve glowered at him.

‘ _I_ would like to know how you got so fucking dead beat.’

The satisfied smirk on the blond’s face was enough to make Steve regret his decision, Billy not answering said question was only the cherry on top.

‘Come on, man! It’s not that bad.’

This time it was Billy’s turn to glower.

‘Mind your own fucking business, would ya?’ grinding his teeth Billy stared out of the window with finality, breathing forcefully and slowly through his nose. He only turned back round when Steve’s thudding footsteps had become muffled behind the kitchen door.

Breathe.

Just breathe.

In.

Out.

Clenching his jaw, Billy picked up the nearest plate.

In.

He raised his hand.

Out.

The ceramic shards went everywhere and he clenched his fist, feeling the blood run and the satisfaction fill him. Storming out the front door, he breathed in. And then out. Adrenaline was pumping as he sprinted through the woods, away from the house - away from Steve. 

Behind him, a teen boy with brown hair stared at the door as it swung wildly on it’s hinges.

\----------------------------------------------------------

The wind cascaded into the house, through the open door and to the Chief’s kitchen. El, Steve and Joyce were left with the mess of a bloody table and shards of plate scattered all over the floor - or rather Joyce was. Steve’s gaze was directed out the door where the crazed teen had recently sprinted out into the open world. El was on the phone to Hopper, her tone calm and the Byers' mother was methodically scraping parts of the floorboards to retrieve fragments of the plate, yet Steve found himself feeling like the wind had been stolen right from him - leaving out the door with Billy.

Shivering slightly, Steve snapped out of it and slammed the door closed, pausing to rest his head on the frame as he breathed heavily out his mouth. The idea that he had caused that meltdown was sickening, especially now that Billy was running around injured and vulnerable to another attack.

_Vulnerable._

Billy Hargrove wasn’t _vulnerable._

Yet here Steve was, worrying about him. 

Turning around he determinedly stalked up to El, gesturing for her to give him the phone and frowning when she held her hand up in a silent signal. She’d certainly got more sass over time. El finally slid the phone into his grasp before nimbly leaping over to Joyce so she could help. Slamming the receiver to his ear Steve snarled down the line at Hopper.

‘Where the hell is he?’

‘We don’t know yet kid but we’re looking-’

‘Oh my God he’s an idiot.’

Slamming his back into the nearest wall Steve sucked in a breath, holding it in his lungs. The crackle of the line echoed it in his ear. 

‘He’s not an idiot, he’s scared - or manic.’ there was a pause.’Look I don’t exactly know why you care so much but we’re gonna find him Steve. We will find him.’ Steve breathed out.

‘Right, thanks.’

He hung up the phone.

\----------------------------------------------------------

Billy was aware of the strong sense of deja vu he was receiving as he hobbled along the main road - with blood and pain who knows, maybe he’d meet a fucking policeman this time too. After the adrenaline had worn off he’d been avidly aware that he was in deep shit; he only had one place to go and that was back home. Back to Neil.

Even if he ended up on the streets he needed things from that house - things like his clothes, sleeping bag and the picture of his mom. So that is how Billy ended up dragging himself back up Cherry Lane to the innocent, if run-down, bungalow that he lived in. 

Staggering up the concrete steps he stumbled in the dark, grabbing the porch fence and feeling it creak under his weight. Leaning forwards the door brushed his hand; he leant forwards and fell onto the timber frame. Just as Billy’s hand was pressed to the wood his brain paused, running through all the consequences of his next move - all the things that could go wrong. This was chess, and Billy was either going to checkmate or fall.

In the end he knocked, the rotting wood bending under his knuckles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I only have a vague clue about where I'm going with this so please feel free to tell me about any discrepancies in the plot line :)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Max discovers a well hid secret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for this chapter! It graphically describes physical abuse as well as some verbal.

Hours after the wooden floor was cleared of all evidence of any ceramic shards, Joyce found herself sitting on the rickety living chair, staring at the empty space before her.While El had managed to distract herself with the TV, the mother couldn’t help but be preoccupied, the incident with Billy running through her mind. Steve had long since left the house, Joyce having waved him away to go and do his work; unfortunately that left her alone with her thoughts. 

She’d spent the entire afternoon fidgeting or cleaning, any progress on the scientists made by Billy himself. After Hopper had walked through the door she’d quickly made her excuses and reversed out of his drive, making her way speedily through the streets of Hawkins.

Digging through her pockets for her house key, she frowned when she found nothing. One hand the wheel, she pulled over and checked the rest of her pockets but came up empty handed once again, no spare key in sight. The only explanation was that they were left at the shop so she pulled an illegal U-turn and headed back to the highstreet.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------

With the headphones from her walkman jammed over her head, Max curled up, sinking deeper into the pile of blankets on her bed. She couldn’t distract herself from the silence emanating from the room next door. The lack of obnoxious rock music echoing around hallway was as jarring as when it was playing, serving as a constant reminder of the missing teen.

While he often disappeared for nights on end, she still heard his name around town - especially through complaints from Hopper - but this time he had gone completely silent. No parties, no drinking, no petty crime, no nothing. That, paired with the unusually loud shouting match that had been triggered just before he disappeared, had left knots in her stomach.

But she had no one to tell.

Her friends wouldn’t care, Steve hated the blonde (even if he had softened up slightly) and her Dad was out of the question - he’d laugh and say good riddance. It was nauseating how little he cared for his own child; however much of a dick Billy was, a parent should still love their kid.

A faint knock that made its way through the storm’s racket caused Max to rip the headphones off her head and sit up straight. Neil was not in the mood for visitors - of _any_ kind. For a moment, only the sound of the storm’s rage could be heard as the door was opened wide. Then a loud crash signified the entry being closed and a screech emanated from Neil.

Louder than even the thunder outside, Neil’s resentment shone through in his furious yelling as the splintering of glass and hardware shook the house. She knew only one person who could cause such a reaction. Slipping from her bed she padded silently down the steps, pausing just slightly before glancing around the door.

Everything slowed down.

Billy’s broken form was curled into the corner of the room, arms above his head as he desperately tried to bat away the vases and glasses and bowls and _anything_ that Neil could get his hands on, that were thrown his way. His temple was already bleeding and blood was dripping from his palm as he clenching onto the sideboard as if it was his only chance.

Leaping back from the scene before her Max screwed her eyes hut as she huddled on the floor just around the corner. It was the wail that she had to choke down which caused her to lower her brows and set her jaw. She was Max Mayfield. She didn’t cry. 

Shuffling back around the corner her eyes went straight to her crouched down step-brother - only Billy wasn’t curled up anymore. 

He was staring at her. 

Blood dripped from his forehead onto his lashes. 

He was _terrified._

For a moment Max could hear nothing but her blood pumping, a screaming whine echoing in her ears over the top of her brother’s sobs - because he _was her brother_.

The splintering of her mom’s favourite fruit bowl caused her to start hearing Neil rather than her own shocked heart beat.

Spinning on her heel she leapt towards the phone,sliding across the floor before slamming the emergency number into the dial. The door slammed behind her. Hands were shaking and sweaty, she picked up the receiver.

The crash of the door as it slammed closed behind her caused Neil to let out another rasped roar as he ripped it back on its hinges and stared at his youngest child. A second passed where only their breathing could be heard - Billy’s shallow and Neil’s heavy - before the crazed man lunged for her.

‘HELP, CHERRY LANE-’ Max screamed.

The phone was ripped from the wall as she scrambled backwards, anywhere away from the animal in front of her. Desperately trying to turn over her socks slipped on the slick kitchen floor.

‘YOU LITTLE BITCH, YOU’RE-’ Neil’s rant was cut short by Billy dropping a plate on his head.

The splinter of hardened clay and varnish was soon taken over by the heavy thud of the man’s body hitting the floor. The two siblings simply stared at his bulky figure, watching it the dust settle around it. The wrecked ceramic made a maze of the floor and Blood stained the oak wood furniture. Nothing was unscathed.

‘Go.’

Max barely had time to glance up before she felt Billy hands dragging her towards the front door.

‘Go!’

‘But where-’

‘The Byers’! I don’t care! Just GO!’

Scrabbling for her shoes she pulled a jacket from the stand and ran out the front door. Pausing she turned again.

‘But where will you-?’

‘Max get the fuck out of this house.’

She stood on their pathway and stared at him unblinkingly.

He breathed shakily, ’I’ll be fine. Now go’

She didn’t need to be told twice.

It was only once she reached the end of the street that she noticed that it was Billy’s jacket that was draped around her shoulders rather than her own.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's too much.
> 
> It's all too much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so this is a pretty short, slightly half-assed update so sorry about that. School has started up again so I've been getting more work and less free time to write in. I hope you enjoy it nonetheless - I'm pretty sure this is the penultimate chapter!

Foot resting against the accelerator, Joyce wove through the many town streets of Hawkins heading straight for the convenience store - only then did she slam the breaks down, skidding to a halt. 

Stepping out onto the pavement the taste of alcohol and sweat made her wince before she hurried indoors, avoiding a few homeless people who were lying outside. Bell ringing as she opened the door, she didn’t even bother going through into the back, simply reaching around the corner to the drawer and grasping around until her fingers brushed her keys. 

She’d promised Will she would be home by seven to make dinner - his favourite for once, rather than store bought food - so she’d mowed down a few late-night shoppers, muttering her apologies as she went. Smacking straight into the chest of a tall man just beside the door she yelped and ducked out into the night- 

only to trip over a large combat boot lying on the sidewalk. 

The concrete loomed in her face just before she caught herself and, with hands still pressed the beer stained ground, she whipped her head up to inspect the muddied shoe lying in front of the shop door.

Said boot was connected to a leg.

And that leg was connected to-

‘Billy?’

I small grunt came from the blonde. Cautiously she pulled her legs up and underneath her, keeping her distance for now.

Inspecting the teens face she found it in worse condition than before, blood sliding down his forehead and staining his eyebrows while his wrists revealed bruises and cuts that she presumed continued further up his arms. His eyes fluttered and he opened his mouth, speech slurred but understandable. 

‘Max- Max is at yours-’

‘Why would Max be at my house? Has something happened?’

‘Neil- Neil. Told-d her to-to run.’

Her stomach twisted. 

Nose suddenly immune to the scent of sweat, she hauled the boy up from under his arms and staggered with him to the car. 

There was only one place left to go.

\--------------------------------------------------------

Frantic 911 calls were supposed to be his specialty but in a sleepy town like Hawkins, it was a rare event for them to be about anything more than petty crime.

Until this.

It hadn’t been hard to find the right house - Cherry Lane was only so long - and it certainly hadn’t disappointed. Standing over the body of Neil Hargrove was cathartic but not at all shocking - what _was_ , on the other hand, rather surprising was the mess that was left around him. Plates, cutlery, vases - they were all smashed and any wood covered in scratches. Neil was lying in the middle of it all, beer on his breath and blood staining is clothes. Unfortunately, the other family members appeared to be absent. 

Floor creaking as he stood straight, Hopper swung his keys around the creases on his finger and jogged towards the van

There was only one place left to go.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------

The buzz in Billy’s ears was insistent as light and shadow blurred in front of his eyes. The worn material of a cotton sofa was a sharp contrast to concrete outside and Billy sank into it, letting himself be swallowed by the cushions surrounding him. The beige walls and stained floors were vaguely familiar and a feeling of guilt welling up from inside his cotton stuffed chest. 

Why was it always like this? Every. Single. Fucking. Time. And he was too tired to fight it. Every time he was helped by people who have every reason not to and he didn’t want to question it and he never even wanted to wonder why and- and yet he was still right there, wrapped up on their couch. Like he was trustworthy. Like he was reliable. 

Like he was worth it. 

Gripping the cushions tired fibres in one hand he smashed a deep dent in the soft surface with his other. He watched the cushion fill back out whilst listening to his own heavy breathing. 

‘What did that cushion ever do to you?’

Joyce’s quiet voice seemed to fill the room from her space by the door. He only stared back, the presence of another person numbing his senses. Unfazed by the lack of an answer she tottered off to the kitchen, leaving Billy alone with his thoughts. 

As pots banged and plates rattled next door Billy found himself unable to move, energy just out of reach from his fingertips. He let himself be engulfed by the cushions once again. The sound of the kettle boiling just seconds later was cut through with the slam of a door, Hopper’s large figure soon following around the door. The slump in his shoulders was enough for the blonde teen to understand how relieved he was, never mind the sudden lack of a frown on his face.

Billy slid a cushion in front of his eyes.

He could still feel Hopper’s eyes on him.

‘You’re here.’ He didn’t phrase it like a question and yet when Hopper deigned to reply Billy only felt more furious. The sound of Hop trudging over to the kitchen soon followed and Billy let out a silent wail, the plastered walls seeming to bend over his head. 

It was too much.

It was all too much.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a little bit perfect - it is only one moment, but it's enough.

Susan Mayfield was a petite in every way possible; small hands, small face, small nose whilst Hopper’s large figure sitting across the table shadowed her. The large blanket wrapped around her shoulders did nothing to disguise this fact - it did, on the other hand, hide the tears slipping down her cheeks and wetting the fabric.

‘No offence ma’am but what do you mean, you don’t want to know where he is?’

‘Neil never liked him.’

Breathing out through his nose the policeman placed his hands on the table in front of him.

‘Neil is going to jail ma’am. There is serious evidence to support severe abuse executed by him in this household - you don’t have to worry about his opinion.’

While Susan froze a single tear continued to make it’s way down her face.

‘Neil’s in...jail?’

‘He will be.’

Feeling the hot air ruffle his moustache as he exhaled, Hop leant back once again. Already having told her this fact a fair few times she had to be in shock - a reasonable state to be in after coming home to find your house trashed and husband concussed.

‘Look-,’ a piercing ring echoed through the house as somebody pressed the door bell outside.

‘It’s not a good time alright so just-’

‘Hop it’s me!’ Steve’s voice cracked as he spoke Jim’s name and the click of a lock meant the door had opened. Just seconds later a red blur ran into the room and embraced Susan’s small form.

Gesturing to Max Steve panted in exhaustion, ‘I found her walking on the side of the road - she said she was heading to the Byers’ or something? But I told her you’d done your police thing at the house and dragged her back home.’ Hopper blinked.

‘Okay but-’

‘Where’s Billy?’ Max’s unusually small voice cut through them both. Hopper glanced at Susan as she wiped a stray tear from a strand of hair.

‘Hop, where’s Billy!’ Her fiery confidence apparently coming back to her, Max leant towards the chief, eyes thinning.

‘You mom isn’t sure if she want to-’

‘Screw it, if she doesn’t want to see him then she doesn’t have to see him, but I do.’ ,she paused for a breather, ’I care.’

Feeling the perpetual need to groan increase, Hop rubbed his forehead.

‘Take her to the Byers’’, he said, to Steve,’and I will try to deal with Susan. Capiche?’

From Steve’s grin, Hopper assumed Max wasn’t the only one who wanted to know where the blond teen was. They were out of the door in seconds and Jim listened the car drive away.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Leaving skid marks up the driveway, Steve and Max didn’t bother ringing the bell but instead invited themselves into the living room, only pausing once Max had her arms wrapped around Billy’s shoulders. The heavy breathing was finally from relief rather than stress and the gentle bubble of the kettle set everyone at ease.

Smears of blood were left on Max’s grey hoodie but their eyes were both shining; their hair was greasy but they were in harmony. For a moment everything was perfect and - as Billy stared at his sister, toothily grinning at him - perhaps that moment would last.

Not forever but just a little bit longer.

He just needed a little bit longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am genuinely so sorry for this half-assed ending - I'm terrible for losing my muse just near the crux of a story but i thought you all deserved at least so form of an ending.


End file.
